


Frigjord

by Suruntuoja



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020 NHL Playoffs Bubble, Hotel X (Hockey RPF), M/M, liberal comma usage, why write about popular pairs when you can come up with a new one from scratch?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suruntuoja/pseuds/Suruntuoja
Summary: He had been walking in the fog for months, had gotten used to it, wore the muted existence like a second skin.
Relationships: Sean Kuraly/Par Lindholm, past relationship implied - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Frigjord

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd, so possible mistakes are all mine.  
> If you are a person mentioned in this story, please move along. This is a piece of fiction, written and published purely for fun.
> 
> \- - 
> 
> Frigjord (Swe): Released, liberated

It started on a plane ride to Toronto. First, as awareness, as a vague feeling of body heat radiating from the seat next to him. Sean knew without looking that Pär was fast asleep, blissfully oblivious of the quiet chatter around them.  
The problem wasn’t that the Swede was there but the fact that Sean _noticed_ his presence, the warmth seeping through the fabric of his shirt, as unavoidable as having an open flame next to you.

He had been walking in the fog for months, had gotten used to it, wore the muted existence like a second skin. Yet, little by little, the world started getting its colors back after an eternity of dull gray hues. It all seemed to radiate outwards from one man sleeping next to him on the plane, playing soccer in the baseball field, queuing Tim Horton’s in the morning, smiling at him from the other side of the Leafs’ locker room.

There were times when Sean felt like he was able to breathe again. Not each inhale stabbed him between the ribs. Not each exhale left him fearing his lungs were about to collapse. The air was pure and crisp going in, the movement of his chest unrestricted and fluid. Each scent became as vivid as the colors around him. They practically screamed at him: _I’m here! Experience me! I live, I exist!_

It was a particularly beautiful August evening, and the whole team was hanging out on the hotel’s roof patio. Sean had propped his head on Pär’s lap and was tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie, enjoying the smell of fresh laundry and blue Gatorade. And when the Swede turned to give him a smile soft as kittens and warmer than the evening sun, Sean was able to answer with his own.  
He realized the pain had loosened its grip and finally let go.


End file.
